


Time On My Side

by preciouslittletime



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Hair-pulling, Long Haired Jeonghan and Present Day Seokmin, M/M, Oral Sex, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:55:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25410493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preciouslittletime/pseuds/preciouslittletime
Summary: The rules of this are simple:1. Do not interfere with yourself2. Do not cheat by looking at future events3. Do not change past events4. Stay hidden until you go back
Relationships: Lee Seokmin | DK/Yoon Jeonghan
Comments: 29
Kudos: 167





	Time On My Side

**Author's Note:**

> This is the most self-indulgent nonsense ever written. But Seokmin is looking beefed up these days and I pray every day for the long haired Jeonghan comeback. 
> 
> If you're uncomfortable with idea of 2020 Seokmin having sex with 2016 Jeonghan please just don't read it.

It’s the seventh of July 2016 when he makes a jump again. He can feel it vibrating under his skin for hours before he does, knocking his bones together and making his teeth chatter like he’s cold. When he was younger he didn’t really receive much of a warning before he popped up somewhere on his own life’s timeline. Around the time he’s seven his thirty-four year old self explains that going forward, it’s best not to interfere with whatever version of himself he’s come into contact with unless it’s an emergency. 

The rules of time travel are confusing and Jeonghan lives several different lives at any given moment. He knows what he’ll look like at sixty-five - vanity making him plaster anti-aging cream on his face every night - but he has no idea if he’ll ever get married, if he’ll ever be famous like he wants to be, if he’ll live past seventy.

The jump feels like being struck by lightning, not that he has anything to base the comparison off of. He _assumes_ it feels a lot like getting hit with one billion volts of electricity. That is to say it’s painful, and he’s not very good at landing on his feet, though an older version of himself that he meets when he’s thirteen demonstrates that he’ll learn how to eventually.

He ends up in a house he vaguely recognizes. In a room he can tell is his. Time travel makes you more observant than other people typically are. You have to take in your surroundings quickly, take stock of details and make deductions.

The room is his own based on the decor. There are photos of him with his family, a blanket on the bed he has back in 2016 lying on the bed, some of his books mixed with newer ones on the bookshelf. Still not a big reader apparently. Although he appears not to be sharing a room in a dorm anymore and that makes him want to stay in this era of his life for hours if it’s possible.

He looks around for further clues, opens a laptop to catch the date - 18 July 2020 - and itches to open a web browser to “cheat”.

The rules of this are simple:

  1. Do not interfere with yourself
  2. Do not cheat by looking at future events
  3. Do not change past events
  4. Stay hidden until you go back



He’s always hated rules. But the thirty-four year old version of himself makes them abundantly clear and, knowing himself, promises there’s a good reason. Jeonghan hasn’t figured out what that reason is yet, but the thirty-four year old version of himself scared the shit out of him when he was seven.

Usually he doesn’t end up in the direct path of himself, usually he’s just _close_ to himself, so ending up in his own bedroom is already a major problem. He can hear voices in the hall that he recognizes as the other members so he can’t leave. All he can do is sit on the bed and wait for his skin to hum again. There’s thankfully already a slight tingle in his fingertips - two hours to go, give or take.

Only it’s ten minutes before somebody barges in the room without knocking. 

Jeonghan tries to make it under the bed to hide, but he’s too late. The man that comes in swings the door open with his full weight and jogs into the room. He stops completely still at the edge of the bed where Jeonghan has one leg underneath it and his face hidden by the curtain of his hair.

“Oh,” says the man. “Hi. I wondered when this would happen.”

His stomach twists into a knot and plummets. He can’t quite bring himself to look up, only steal a peek through his hair at the person’s appraisal of him bent in half in an attempt to flee. It’s not his voice, it doesn't look a bit like him. He assumes it’s another member, and he flicks through their faces to imagine them aged four years. The recognition slams into him like a speeding car, makes him cough out the name.

“Seokmin?” Jeonghan stands up straight and gapes open-mouthed and fearful.

The boy - the _man_ \- in front of him is entirely different from the version of him he left behind in 2016. There’s parts of him that remain: kind eyes that squint up when he smiles, a mouth that’s almost too big, tiny mole on his cheek. His voice now is deeper, and he’s taller. His skin is tanner, hair longer. The biggest difference is in the bulk of him, the way his shirt fits tight in the arms and shoulders. Bigger than that is the way he carries himself. He’s standing straight, chin titled confidently, his presence in the room undeniable.

“On second thought I’ll stay,” he yells back into the hallway. “See you guys afterwards.”

Jeonghan can hear his own voice calling back. “Do you want me to bring you back your favorite?”

He flicks his eyes between the doorframe where the older version of himself is down the hall and the dark glint of Seokmin’s eyes landing on Jeonghan’s shoulders where he combs out his hair with fingers. Seokmin calls out his order and shuts the door behind him carefully.

Jeonghan hands are shaking, an additional betrayal of his body added to the list he has running. Being a time traveler with no control over his ability comes in at number one. The way he’s panicking at Lee _fucking_ Seokmin - of all people - encroaching on him is slowly rising to the top.

“Hey it’s ok,” Seokmin says comfortingly. His voice is soothing as he takes Jeonghan’s hand. “I know.”

“You know?”

_He knows?_

“I’m not supposed to…tell you anything. Jeonghan said…” he pauses to laugh and rub at his own neck. “ _You_ said…about the rules.”

It’s impossible to be uncomfortable in Seokmin’s radiating warmth. He’s tried. Though he can’t help but dwell on the disquieting information that he’s told Seokmin about his ability. He hadn’t even told his own parents. He’s been committed to hiding it his entire life and he’s done a pretty damn good job of it, too.

“Then you know you shouldn’t be talking to me,” Jeonghan quips. In times of trouble he can at least rely on his wit.

Seokmin smiles wide at that. His jaw is so defined now, there are muscles in his neck and shoulders that flex where he was only skin and bones before. “When are you from? 2016 or so?” Seokmin reaches out without apprehension and twists a lock of Jeonghan’s hair between his thumb and forefinger. There’s a low cast of his eyes, the pink tip of his tongue wetting his lips.

Jeonghan’s eyes go wide and he steps back impulsively. A torrent of realizations hitting him all at once. He looks around the room again in a second pass of observation. It’s his bedroom, but there are traces of Seokmin here, the smell of cologne on his neck that he smelled earlier in the sheets. The ease with which Seokmin touches him, his over-familiarity. The fact that he knows Jeonghan’s secret. “Are we…together?” he asks, astonished. 

Seokmin sucks in his bottom lip and looks away. It seems that over time he hasn’t gotten any better at lying. Jeonghan follows his eyes, takes his shoulders in his hands and knits his eyebrows together. “Hello? Answers, please?”

“You told me not to break the rules. Oh God, Jeonghannie is going to be so mad,” he sighs. There’s the color of worry on his face, but a shimmer in his eyes. Jeonghan cocks his head in confusion and it causes a few strands of hair to fall over his eyes. Seokmin tracks the movement, reaching slowly between them to tuck the pieces behind Jeonghan’s ear.

“This is so self-serving. I should have just left. But I had _such_ a crush on you back then,” he says, almost to himself. It’s barely a whisper, but Jeonghan is close enough to him to hear it. Jeonghan’s cheeks heat up under Seokmin’s too-honest stare. Back in 2016 the Seokmin he knows is a friend to him, but timid in everything he does. Half the time they speak privately he won’t make eye contact for more than a second.

This Seokmin stares for too long. Jeonghan has to look away and laugh to maintain a semblance of composure. “That’s breaking a rule.”

Seokmin smiles. “I know. I just miss your hair like this.” He touches Jeonghan’s hair again, slides his fingers through the locks and lets his nails drag over his scalp. The sensation makes Jeonghan break out in goosebumps. Seokmin looks at Jeonghan’s mouth, back to where his fingers slide through the tangled strands. “I asked you to grow it out, but you told me no. I’m sad I never got to be with you when you had it like this.”

Jeonghan presses a hand to Seokmin’s chest and can’t help but gasp at the firm muscle he finds there. All he meant to do was give him a little shove back, push him away, but the solid body he finds makes him think he’d be incapable of generating enough strength to do it. Seokmin looks down at the hand on his chest and flashes Jeonghan a cocky little smile. Jeonghan knows this is crossing a line, several lines. But the depth to Seokmin’s voice, the confidence he radiates, the way he touches him with tenderness and possession makes him shiver.

“You’re really bad at this,” Jeonghan says slowly and purposeful. He’s flirting. Like an idiot. Flirting with what he assumes is his future boyfriend. “You’re breaking all the rules. I can’t know when we end up together. It’ll change things.”

The air feels charged. Like a lightning storm finally moving miles off, just the residual static and heavy air. Jeonghan moves that hand on Seokmin’s chest down towards his stomach, presses fingertips into the abdominal muscles and blinks.

“When do you get so….” Jeonghan asks, trailing off.

“I thought you said I can’t break any more rules, Hannie,” he smirks, moves two vascular hands to settle on Jeonghan’s waist. He feels so small in his hold.

Jeonghan laughs. “Well you’ve already broken so many…”

Seokmin gives him a knowing smile, like he can see right through him. “You’re flirting with me.” He _can_ see right through him. Jeonghan blushes, frustratingly, and tries to hide it with a careless shrug.

“You can touch me,” Seokmin coaxes. “I won’t tell on you…to you.” He laughs and it’s not his normal cackle. It’s hushed and goading. Jeonghan rolls his eyes but moves his hands to touch the bulk of Seokmin’s upper arms. They’re massive now. He could see the way his shirt strained to contain them, but it’s entirely different to see his hands dwarfed by the muscle he finds there.

“I’m going to know anyways,” Jeonghan says.

“I never understood why you gave yourself rules to follow. You break every rule in existence.”

Seokmin isn’t looking him in the eye anymore. Now he’s taking his own time evaluating Jeonghan’s frame. Distantly, he recalls what he’ll look like in his thirties, and he knows somewhere on his timeline he’ll fill out in the middle, in his shoulders, but for now Seokmin seems to appreciate the lithe curve of his waist beneath his shirt. He squeezes his sides, gentle but firm, and Jeonghan _wants_.

His eyes flicker downwards to Seokmin’s lips, familiar and unfamiliar all at once. Everything about this interaction has bright warning lights flashing in his periphery, klaxons blasting in his ear, pang of guilt hitting him deep in his belly. But his hands are sliding up underneath Seokmin’s shirt to feel the warmth of his skin, and Seokmin is stuttering out an exhale.

“Tell me about the crush?” Jeonghan says with a grin. He’s pushing buttons, because that’s what he’s best at. He wants to turn over the taste of this Seokmin in his mouth. The one back in 2016 is mild. This one is deceptive like cinnamon; it should be sweet and heady but burns your tongue and overtakes your senses.

Seokmin cards his fingers through Jeonghan’s hair absently. “You never really noticed me then. Not the way I wanted you to at least. I hated it. All I wanted was to kiss you and I couldn’t figure out why.”

Jeonghan thinks about those lines he’s crossing, the rules he’s breaking, and he takes stock of them as he leans up his chin towards Seokmin’s lips in silent permission. Still, Jeonghan loves to drive a point home. “I’m here now,” he says.

Seokmin glances downwards, curls his fingers in Jeonghan’s hair, and envelops him. It’s entirely different than what he’d think kissing Seokmin would entail. He’s demanding and heated, over-enthusiastic and knows implicitly that Jeonghan likes there to be too much teeth. Jeonghan whines before he can catch himself, and Seokmin releases his bottom lip from where he’s got it bitten. He soothes it with his tongue, smiles against his mouth.

“You’re showing off,” Jeonghan mumbles into his mouth.

“You taught me how to do it,” Seokmin hums. He turns his neck so he can get a better angle, kisses him deep and dizzying. “This is so weird.”

Jeonghan figures what he means, but Jeonghan’s entire fucking existence is weird. He stops thinking about himself in different times as different people around the time he’s fifteen. They’re all him, just different iterations. Since he’s doing this now, he knows the Jeonghan who was out in the hallway a few minutes ago knew this would happen. He knows he could have stopped it. He knows that he didn’t stop it on purpose.

Seokmin has him up against the wall and Jeonghan has never felt smaller. There’s one hand tangled in the hair at the back of his neck and one by his head against the wall. Seokmin kicks his feet to part them and lets himself fall into the empty space that leaves him. His weight is overwhelming and Jeonghan knows he’s always wanted boys bigger than him. He just never expected that boy to be Lee Seokmin. He can understand where the 2020 version of himself is coming from, why he’d want somebody like this. Jeonghan can’t help but touch him everywhere, trying to memorize the planes and valleys of his muscle. 

“I’m not trying to have sex. If this is…this is too weird,” Seokmin says, pulling away. He’s looking into Jeonghan’s eyes and there’s something there that’s different from the way he was looking at him before. Now he sees the adoration and somehow seeing that is worse. Jeonghan wonders what it’d be like to have this Seokmin as a boyfriend, have this Seokmin love him. He’s so outrageously kind, he can’t imagine having all that kindness concentrated on him.

Jeonghan has been too quiet while he’s thinking and Seokmin chases his gaze, honest and loving. “Are you alright, jagiya?”

 _Oh. Jagiya_. Jeonghan’s eyes go wide and his heart jumps and he grabs Seokmin’s chin so hard he clacks their teeth together. Seokmin groans and pulls him backwards until he hits the bed. He picks up Jeonghan as if he’s the weight of a feather, Jeonghan swoons at that. In a fluid motion, Seokmin sits on the mattress and pulls Jeonghan’s knees to bracket his thighs. Jeonghan straddles him and thanks himself for wearing something loose enough to maneuver in. 

This _is_ weird. Or at least it should be. Jeonghan doesn’t dwell on it. He just pulls up Seokmin’s shirt insistently until he can get it over his head and throws it onto the bedroom floor. With a hum he pushes Seokmin back until he rests on his hands and Jeonghan can get drunk off the sight of him, bare-chested and breathless. He’s smooth skin and strength and Jeonghan touches all the way down from the bulk of his shoulders to the hard lines of his stomach. 

“When does this happen?” he asks, again, dreamily and Seokmin is rosy with pride. He’s got one side of his mouth pulled up, a flirtatious little smirk that Jeonghan wants to kiss off his face.

“Do you like it?” Seokmin questions as if he can’t see the answer written all over his face. 

“And when do you get so cocky?” Jeonghan sneers. He huffs, shifts his hips, lets Seokmin grab at his sides again. Seokmin just laughs gleefully and steals another kiss. 

He can feel the hum of a jump and the heat of need commingling under his skin. They’re both shirtless, their skin pressing against each other, and Jeonghan’s lips are raw from the way Seokmin kisses him harder than he means probably means to. There are long fingers pawing at the hem of his shorts, a thumb skimming over his cock through the fabric, and Jeonghan is squirming without an ounce of dignity. Each shift of his hips draws out an exhale from Seokmin’s nose, a garbled sound in his chest. 

Jeonghan isn’t used to being the one on the defensive. He’s always been the one with more experience, the one to take charge, the one who is hand over fist. Seokmin in this moment in time has him trying to keep up. He knows where Jeonghan likes to be touched, knows just how to dig his blunt fingernails into the fleshy part under Jeonghan’s thighs and bite bruises into his neck. Jeonghan can’t imagine what the future is like for him. He already was lost considering this Seokmin as a boyfriend; if he gets tripped up thinking about their sex life, he’ll miss out getting this rule-breaking spoiler for it.

With a smile and a peck of a kiss, Jeonghan slips off of Seokmin’s lap. He stands on the floor, admires Seokmin’s tousled hair and overworked mouth, then slips to his knees on the carpet between Seokmin’s legs. Above, Seokmin tries to protest, but Jeonghan is too busy shimmying his shorts and briefs down his legs to acknowledge it. His cock falls heavy and flushed against his belly and Jeonghan can’t look away for a second.

When he looks back up into Seokmin’s eyes, his pupils are blown and he’s in a state of shock. The flutter in Jeonghan’s stomach is intoxicating, knowing that he can turn sweet Lee Seokmin into something like this – even the older, smug version. Hand over fist. Where he ought to be. Seokmin doesn’t need to know that at this point that Jeonghan only done this once. He reaches for the hair tie on his wrist like it’s natural for him. _See_ , _I have experience, too._

“Wait, no,” Seokmin says quickly. His hand darts out to gather Jeonghan’s hair into one hand. He holds the knot of his hair up against the back of his head and pushes back the strands he missed with his free hand. Jeonghan blinks up at him, gauging his reaction as he takes his cock in one hand. 

Seokmin swallows hard, glances up at the ceiling like he’s saying a prayer before he rests his gaze back down on Jeonghan. He preens under the attention, making a show of licking a broad stripe up the shaft and sinking his mouth down on him inch by inch. Seokmin is every bit as loud in bed as Jeonghan expected him to be, but each sound hits him straight in the gut like a suckerpunch. He’s spurred on by it, vibrating with the countdown clock of the jump in his blood.

“If you told me four years ago that I’d get to see you do this,” Seokmin breathes, absently, unfiltered. Jeonghan looks up at him and takes the moment to catch his breath. His throat is already raw from taking Seokmin deeper than he can handle. 

“I could tell him for you,” Jeonghan jokes.

“Or you could just put him out of his misery and do this to him,” Seokmin sighs around a chuckle.

“You really had a crush on me then?”

“Yeah,” Seokmin says, regathering Jeonghan’s hair in his fist. “Big, huge embarrassing one. You were so hot.” Jeonghan rolls his eyes and Seokmin licks his lips. “Don’t act like you don’t know it.” 

Jeonghan shifts under the spotlight of Seokmin’s compliments, the way Seokmin can figure him out so easily. He hates the way he’s blushing, so he takes Seokmin in his mouth again. Maybe when they’re together later he’s better at vocalizing his feelings. For now, he’ll show him. 

Seokmin leans back with a groan and tugs ever so slightly on Jeonghan’s hair wrapped around his fist. It makes Jeonghan whine, press his eyelids together and grind his hips down onto his heels seeking out some relief. The sound knocks a laugh out of Seokmin, a gravely: “Do you like that?” 

The humming in his bones is getting louder and his head is swimming. Seokmin pulls on his hair hard enough to make him gasp, the sound coming out choked with the way his cock is in his throat. They catch each other’s eyes and he’d never expect to see an expression like _that_ on Lee Seokmin’s face. It’s dusky, mischievous, the curl of his lip when he pulls on his ponytail.

Seokmin guides him by his hair and Jeonghan finds himself following. He doesn’t have enough practice to do this without being messy, without letting the spit pool in his mouth and drip out from the corners of his lips. Seokmin looks like he’s going to explode, like his skin is struggling to contain him. Jeonghan can hardly breathe and each time Seokmin pulls his hair he feels like they might burst together.

When Seokmin comes in his mouth it’s with a babbling warning and the sound of Jeonghan’s name on his lips. He says it, over and over again until he snaps his hips up too hard for Jeonghan not to choke. Before he can focus on the discomfort of it, Seokmin is hauling him back up on to the bed with little effort and pressing comforting kisses against his cheeks.

“Sorry,” he swears into Jeonghan’s ear. “That was too rough. Let me.”

He’s positioned flat against his own bed, big enough for two. Seokmin is smothering him, but tender in the way he strips him of the rest of his clothes, parts his legs, lays between them. He’s watching Jeonghan carefully, like he’s waiting for the slightest indication Jeonghan doesn’t want this to happen. The thing is, Jeonghan does want this to happen. He shoves down at Seokmin’s shoulders, so he’ll touch him where he’s aching to be touched and Seokmin rewards his impatience with a fond smile.

Seokmin is so much better at giving head than he is. He does it like he’s done the rest of this encounter, with a sort of dramatic irony - he knows exactly what Jeonghan wants without Jeonghan even knowing he wants it. He pushes Jeonghan’s hips down on the bed with both hands so he can’t move even if he wanted to, bobs his head fast and sloppy and deep. He pulls sounds out of Jeonghan he didn’t even realize he could make, high and desperate sounds that leave him scrambling at Seokmin’s shoulders. He claws at him for more, pushes at him because it’s too good.

He comes so embarrassingly fast and with his fingernails cutting into Seokmin’s shoulder blades enough to leave marks. Seokmin sucks at him until he’s whining and squirming, overstimulated and nearly crying from the sensation of it. Eventually, he can force Seokmin’s name out from behind his teeth to get him to stop.

“Are you alright?” Seokmin asks, stupid shit-eating grin on his face. 

Jeonghan is boneless and his jaw isn’t functioning enough snap back a rejoinder. All he can manage is to push his hair out of his eyes with shaking hands and groan out a noise in the affirmative. Seokmin settles beside him on the bed and pulls him close, nosing at his temple. 

“Jagiya, let me get you dressed. You’re going to jump soon,” he says so sweet and soft Jeonghan’s heart swells. He’s half-dazed by the orgasm, but present enough to scowl in confusion.

“How do you know?”

Seokmin is moving away from him before he answers. Coming back in comfortable nudity to maneuver Jeonghan back into his clothes. Jeonghan watches him with narrowed eyes as he’s dressed like a doll, partially annoyed by his own pliant limbs and partially glowing under the attentiveness. Seokmin goes so far as to run a brush through his hair. Jeonghan can’t tell if the tingling is from the orgasm, the sensation of the brush against his scalp, or the nearness of his jump. Perhaps it’s all three. He breaks out in goosebumps.

“I can feel it on you,” Seokmin says, coming around to face him again. He tucks the hair behind Jeonghan’s ears and smiles warmly. Jeonghan’s eyebrows flick up.

“Feel it on me?”

“Yeah it’s a little like static. Like tv white noise. We have this conversation later, by the way, try to act surprised when I tell you the first time.”

“You’re so bad at this, why do I tell you again?”

They both laugh, and Jeonghan’s chest is aching with how close the jump is. He can feel it on his fingertips. Only a few minutes. He braces himself for it like a wave that he’s facing away from, looking at the shoreline instead. 

“Your version of me is about to give you so much grief about this when I get home,” Jeonghan jokes. _Your version._ He knows himself and even four years from now he’s sure he still gets a kick out of poking fun at everyone else's lapses in judgement. Seokmin rolls his eyes. 

“I fully expect you to,” he says. And as if he forgets himself, he gives Jeonghan a casual peck on the lips. “It wouldn’t be so bad if you’d just grow your hair out again like I keep asking.”

“That’s a conversation you need to have with him. Not me.”

There’s a brief pause and Seokmin’s grip on him tightens. Jeonghan shivers, realizing Seokmin can feel it, too. 

“Give him a kiss for me,” Jeonghan smiles.

“I’ll see you soon, jagiya.”

He ends up back in the dorm and it’s loud upon his entry. It’s the room he shares, bunk beds on the walls like barracks, screaming boys in the other room. He’s never been disappointed to come back to his own time after a jump, but there’s the ghost of warmth where Seokmin’s held him tight. He wonders what Seokmin is doing now. If he’s still sitting naked on the bed, staring at the spot when Jeonghan was, if the 2020 version of Jeonghan is home yet and teasing him endlessly for what they’d just done.

“Hyung?” says a voice. “There you are! We were looking for you!”

Seokmin in 2016 is lanky and shy and entirely different than the one he’d last seen. This Seokmin edges into the room and beams with too many teeth, holding out a hand for Jeonghan to take. Jeonghan looks down at it and sees his bony fingers, his slight wrists, no bulk in his forearms. 

“It’s time for dinner,” he says and starts to draw his hand away once he realizes Jeonghan hasn’t taken it. The expression lands on him being mortified, as if he’s overstepped. Jeonghan’s cheeks crack with a smile, nose scrunching, and he grabs Seokmin’s hand _just so_ , that way their fingers can lace together.

At this proximity he can appreciate the similarities of the Seokmin he left behind. The same affection in his stare, same sunbeam bright smile. Jeonghan kisses his cheek and Seokmin laughs nervously. 

“Wh-what was that for?” he whispers, touching the spot where Jeonghan’s lips landed with the tips of his fingers. He’s flushed, unconfident, wide-eyed - a boy with a crush and Jeonghan knows _all_ about it now.

“What’s for dinner?”

**Author's Note:**

> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/lithomancy) / [my curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/lithomancy)


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